


you're a wolf, girl, get out of this town

by ghostrunner



Category: Drive Angry (2011)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1343272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostrunner/pseuds/ghostrunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drive, fuck, hell, baby girl</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're a wolf, girl, get out of this town

\--

She means to stay with Webster, like Milton wanted her to, she really does. She means to stay out of trouble and take care of the baby but Piper's just not that kind of girl. 

She names the baby Hope. And she hits the road. 

\--

"Where are you going?" the Accountant asks her, the first time he finds her. He's walking his coin over his knuckles.

Piper checks on Hope with a glance. Hope is fine. Piper is restless. 

She wraps a hand around the Accountant's belt buckle. 

"What the hell does it matter to you?"

\--

It's not the best way to raise a little girl, maybe, but it sure as hell ain't the worst, either and Piper'd raised hell and killed cops to protect Hope long before she'd ever held her in her arms and the things she'd do for her now are staggering. It doesn't bear thinking about. 

So Piper works her way across the country, wherever she wants to go. She has money and she has Webster's car and she has a duffel bag full of guns and Hope is a happy baby. Piper's gonna make her a girl Milton will be proud of. 

There are problems, oh yeah. There are backwater psychos who still think Hope is the key to something that will make them kings. There are minor, crawling demons who think killing is fun and killing one who got away would be the most fun. 

But there's nothing much that Piper can't handle, these days.

\--

The Accountant says, "I have a nostalgic fondness for deserts. Not for the people, though. Abraham was such a whiny little tool."

He's fucking into Piper in long, smooth strokes as he says this, so instead of making some sneering comeback she just rolls her eyes and rolls her hips up into him. The hood of the car is warm against her back through the bunched up leather of Milton's jacket. Around them the desert is a wasteland of dry hills and dusty sagebrush, bad water and bleached bones. 

The Accountant's hands are hot and dry, his strength implacable. He moves Piper a little and the next thrust takes out most of her higher brain functions. She starts to cry out and then chokes it back, remembering Hope, asleep in the back seat. 

"Son of a bitch," she gasps, instead.

He chuckles. 

The sky is a pitiless, burning blue. So blank it doesn't seem real. The Accountant groans and his rhythm stutters. 

Piper takes ragged breaths of the scorching air. 

This is freedom.

\--

She wraps Hope in Milton's jacket when it gets cold at night. She's trying to give her some feeling of connection to him. No matter how tenuous. 

Hope will never meet her mother, or her sweet, useless father. She'll never know the grandfather who broke out of hell for her. Piper can't do anything about any of that, but she can do this. She can let Hope sleep safe in the smoky leather, the way she slept, once. 

It smells like him, a little. Like tobacco and whiskey and gunpowder. Like fire. 

Piper keeps driving. 

\--

"Why do you keep coming back?" she asks him. It's a serious question and it's something she's been thinking about for a long time, but they just got done screwing each other into a boneless, contented sprawl and she can't make her voice sound anything but idle. 

The Accountant gives his dry little chuckle and she feels him roll towards her. The hot, iron strength of his hands on her. 

"Do you just stop in for a fuck every time you're up here chasing souls?" She wants that to be accusatory but he knows her body very well now and it comes out more breathless than she'd like. 

He flicks one her nipples in an idle display of control. "Yes." But she knows him fairly well, too, by this point. As well as he really can be known and she hears the amusement of a lie in his voice. 

"Maybe you're important," he says against the crease of her thigh. "Maybe Hope is." 

He slides long clever fingers inside her. Unerring, unhesitating. He makes her crazy. 

"Maybe I just like you." 

Piper sucks in air, feeling her toes curl, the drag of sweat in her hair. 

"Fine," she says. "Maybe I don't want to know."

\--

The United States is a big place and Piper is never taking Hope anywhere near Louisiana. 

Hope tugs on her hair and points at the sky. There isn't a cloud in sight so Piper isn't really sure what she's looking at. 

"Okay, baby," she says. "Okay."

The air is hot and dry. A red-tailed hawk wheels over the dusty parking lot.

Piper thinks of the desert. The Accountant's body against hers in the strangling heat. 

She heads north.

\--


End file.
